


In The Middle

by easilydistractedbyfanfic



Series: S7 Countdown - 5 Days of Murven Fics [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Canon Compliant, Could Be Canon, Cussing, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hints of What Could Be, Missing Scene, Six Years In Space Is A Long Time, What If - On The Ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24223789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easilydistractedbyfanfic/pseuds/easilydistractedbyfanfic
Summary: Missing Scene from the Ring - It never made sense to me that Raven & Emori shared a room on the Ring. If Murphy stole half the ship and isolated himself away from everyone there, then he probably slept over there too, right? Which would mean that Emori didn't need to move out or in with Raven. Here's my attempt to solve the discrepancy.
Relationships: Emori & Raven Reyes, John Murphy & Raven Reyes, John Murphy/Raven Reyes (implied), Memoraven Friendship, Pre-John Murphy/Raven Reyes, Raven Reyes & John Murphy & Emori
Series: S7 Countdown - 5 Days of Murven Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748824
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	In The Middle

**Author's Note:**

> 4 days to go til s7, and here's the second fic in my 5 Day Countdown! I'm sneaking it before 9pm so it counts for today! Ha!  
> Note that Emori and Murphy are broken up here and while this is very much a friendly fic between the three of them - I am who I am and I don't write Raven & Murphy without at least the insinuation that there is something more between them.  
> So turn back now if you don't like that - the tags are there for a reason.

* * *

It’s not like they all couldn’t see it coming. A Murphy and Emori implosion had been hurtling towards them probably since year two on the Ring, but they were both obstinate - getting pushed away and pulled back in over and over was seemingly just how their relationship worked. Or didn’t work, as the case may be. And it wasn’t as if they _didn’t_ care about each other. No, that wasn’t it at all. They two of them did love each other. It was just that their dynamic wasn’t always healthy, and the other five residents of their claustrophobic little spaceship couldn’t help but pick up on it, what with the more-hurtful-than-humorous insults, sly provocation and snide remarks made under their breath not exactly a secret to anyone with ears. 

Raven did her best to stay out of it, not even offering up any advice like sometimes Harper did, and even Echo and Monty got sucked in occasionally. Mostly when they couldn’t stand the arguing any longer. Bellamy probably cornered Murphy about it the most, lecturing about ‘maturity’ until he ran out of breath, but as far as Raven could see, nothing did much good except to let them ride out their anger. Then they’d have a period of getting along until the cycle started again. In the beginning, at least, it was easy to avoid, especially for her since she was so busy trying to make sure they all didn’t die. 

But then somewhere before their third year, Murphy started appearing in the room she’d claimed as her workshop more often. He’d gripe about boredom, so she’d give him a job to do, and over the course of six months or so it had turned into a habit that she had privately looked forward to. It was nice to have company, the kind that could keep quiet when she needed to focus, but also the kind who could keep her amused and less likely to overexert herself. The idea that Murphy would be one of her favorite options for company seemed insane considering their past, but they worked well together even when they bickered and snarked half the day away. And she’d genuinely welcomed Emori’s questions when she began to spend more time in the workshop as well, first coming to find Murphy but then staying because she wanted to know more. 

In fact, for a while, Raven couldn’t have asked for a better arrangement. It was like she had two assistants who each excelled at something different and were eager to help her out. Emori was drawn to the technical aspects, wanting to know how things worked and also why they worked together with something else. Murphy didn’t care about the how or why - he just wanted it all _to_ work, period. It wasn’t difficult to determine that he learned a variety of things not out of his own interest but to take a few responsibilities off her list. She wasn’t going to complain, especially when it meant he’d be willing to crawl into some of the more inaccessible areas of the Ring that her brace made it harder for her to get to or reach. She also wasn’t going to point out that she knew he was deliberately helping her either, in case he stopped doing it. 

But along with the perks, Murphy and Emori brought along their problems. Raven learned more details than she wanted to about their disagreements, and it was tough not to have opinions or get involved. It wasn’t as though she _wanted_ to choose sides either, but she’d dare anybody to listen to one of the combative conversations between the other two occupants of her workshop and not pick a winner, at least secretly anyway, which is what she always did. When things got awkward enough that she had to play referee, she threatened them both with kicking them off whatever project they were pursuing, and if even that didn’t faze them, she literally made them alternate days on who could come into her domain for a week or two. It was ridiculous, but it mostly worked. 

Besides, Raven really enjoyed having time with only Emori or only Murphy, without the possibility of an argument breaking out. They both had come to mean so much to her, and while she might never understand exactly why they stayed in the same repetitive cycle with each other, it wasn’t her call to make. So maybe sometimes it wasn’t too bad, getting involved just enough to keep the peace for everyone on the Ring. At the very least it provided something else for her to think about other than the fact that she wasn’t making enough progress to get them home according to plan. 

When it came down to it, Emori and Murphy were pretty good at not making her choose sides. 

Turns out, she was the one who sucked at staying neutral. 

* * *

“It’s too fucking early for this!” 

Raven raises her voice over the frosty, hushed tones of her two repair partners. Whatever they were arguing about yesterday has carried over to this morning, and she’s in no mood to let it continue. She glares at both of them, and at least Emori bothers to look contrite. Murphy just grins at her. 

It’s him she directs her next comment to. 

“I’m not kidding. Cut it out if you want to stay in here, or just leave now and save me a headache.”

“Sorry,” Emori mutters, and turns back towards the parts spread out before her. 

Murphy doesn’t say anything, but the weight of his gaze is heavy, almost trying to force her to look at him. Raven refuses to give in, taking away his chance to apologize without any words. 

When it’s obvious she’s not taking the bait, he starts to tap the tiny screwdriver he’s holding onto the table, just loud enough to be objectionable. She grits her teeth, knowing from experience that he just _has_ to push the envelope.

It’s Emori who cracks first. 

“Can’t you stop acting like an ass already?” She pushes away from her workbench as she yells, clenching her fists in her fury. She turns towards Raven, making an effort to speak more politely. “Raven, I’ll come back and work on this later. I need to go.”

Nodding in understanding, Raven watches her leave, the door thudding shut behind her. Immediately she turns towards Murphy, shaking her head. 

“Don’t say it,” Murphy cuts her off before she can get in a word. “I already know you’re mad at me too.”

An audible sigh escapes her lips. She is upset, yeah, but it’s got a lot more to do with herself than anyone else. They’re past the five year mark now, and every day makes her feel more like a failure. Her patience isn’t exactly running high. 

“I’m not mad, not really. I just don’t understand why you guys are at each other’s throats so often. It’s been months this time where you can’t even spend an hour in the same room.” She’s not sure if she should say anything more, but it’s been _bad_ and it’s putting the rest of them on edge. And she’d know, because Echo and Harper keep nagging her to try to calm Murphy and Emori down so the rest of them can have some peace. 

“Honestly, Murphy, I’ve been going to bed wondering if one of you is going to still be alive when we get up again.”

He laughs, but it’s bitter and not the kind she wants to hear. “We haven’t been sleeping in the same room for a while, so that probably won’t happen. Probably.”

That’s not something she was aware of. And it’s not her business to pry any further, even though she wishes she could help. She doesn’t like to see her friends unhappy, and this is the worst they’ve been. Their interactions have been so mean and spiteful, their insults nowhere near the taunting but ultimately harmless banter she knew Murphy was capable of. 

“Is there something I can do?” Not that she knows what it could be, but she’d try if there was. 

“Nah. We broke it.” Murphy shrugs a shoulder at her, pausing to rub at the back of his neck before looking up at her sheepishly. “Actually, I know they’re hard to come by, but if you’ve got a spare blanket, that’d help me out.”

She smiles, relieved she can do something for him after all. “Yeah, I do have one you can use. But it’s a loaner, you got that? Blankets don’t grow on trees up here.”

He grins, more relaxed than he’s been all morning. She ends up spending the first half of her day with Murphy, and then Emori comes in later and they work together until bedtime. Raven keeps the knowledge that her friends aren’t sharing a room to herself. She wouldn’t know what to say anyway. But she does wonder where Murphy is sleeping. 

* * *

Not long after Raven loans him her blanket, Murphy stops spending much time in her workshop. Which also means she barely sees him since she’s either always there, fixing something around the Ring or sleeping in her own room. Sometimes Bellamy pulls her into a group hangout, or Echo pesters her to train, but they all know it’s Raven’s efforts that matter most when it comes to getting them back to Earth. So her social time has definitely dwindled the longer their timeline drags on, and she relies on her friends coming to see _her_ instead of the other way around. 

At first she brushes it off, assumes he wants to avoid Emori, but then one night at family dinner - while Murphy is conspicuously absent - Echo puts on the pressure and Emori bursts like a balloon, admitting they’re broken up and have been for longer than any of the rest of them have realized. Apparently Murphy’s staying on the side of the ship where they cut off the power. The knowledge doesn’t sit well with her. It’s dark over there, almost all the time, and fucking cold. There’s not suitable living quarters anywhere but where they’ve settled in on the Ring, the other side mostly full of larger rooms with no windows, long ago partitioned into cubicles for the Governmental branch of Go-Sci, and a few bigger labs that they scavenged for tech and useful parts in their first year on board. She's always thought it was kind of creepy over there, not full of active, working people like it was designed to be. Raven can’t imagine that Murphy has found anywhere warm to crash, let alone comfortable. Spending time with only his own thoughts is _not_ going to be good for him either. 

It eats at her, and after two days of not even catching a glimpse of him, she fibs to Emori that her leg is aching and she’s going to head to bed early and do some stretching. Her friend is caught up in the piloting simulations they’ve been practicing, hardly paying attention to Raven’s lie, so it’s easy to sneak back to her room and grab a few things before she hunts down Murphy. 

Almost an hour passes before she finds him. She’s worked herself into a temper over it, determined to pick a fight over how he’s wasted her time, but when she opens a random door and spots him slouched against the wall in the shadowy, enclosed space, everything fades away except for concern. 

“Murphy! What the hell are you doing in here?”

He looks around the threadbare room, half shrugging as he frowns at his surroundings. “Slumming it, I guess?”

That’s one way to put it. The room is hardly bigger than a storage closet, an awkward nook carved out due to the arrangement of the corridor and the large Science Lab she just searched through. There’s not even enough room for a chair or table - only a thin blanket on the floor, his pillow and her blanket on top of it, and a few of his belongings and clothes. 

“You can’t sleep like this, Murphy.” Just thinking about him in this terrible dark room makes her throat tight, let alone _seeing_ it. 

“Don’t knock it til you try it,” he says, sarcasm at full force. “It may not look like much but it holds body heat in like you wouldn’t believe.”

It’s probably the only way he’s lasted without freezing, she figures. Still, he doesn’t even have a mattress, and the cold, hard floor isn’t doing him any favors. 

“Seriously. This is awful. You can’t stay here,” her tone is definitely bordering on pleading with him, but she doesn’t care. “Just come back to where there’s heat, okay? We’ll figure something out with the rooms; I’ll work up a schedule in my workshop so you and Emori can avoid each other if you want. But you can’t...live over here all by yourself like this.” Raven gestures weakly around the room. 

Murphy stares at her, a hard gleam in his eyes. “Are any of us actually _living_ up here, Reyes? If anything, we’re barely surviving.”

This isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation, and it probably won’t be the last either. Sometimes they get lucky and talk about it with a bottle of Monty’s moonshine. Other times it’s a bitchfest for both of them to vent. Sometimes it’s just her who complains, sometimes just him. Neither one of them is a stranger to frustration, that’s for sure. Times like this are the worst though, when one or the other of them is feeling hopeless. 

“Move over,” she orders, keeping the door open a crack to at least let a swath of starlight in to illuminate her way. She crosses over to the wall he’s leaning against in a scant three steps, placing her palm against it to brace herself as she lowers down to the floor beside him. As expected, she’s right about the floor being freezing. 

He makes room for her on the flimsy blanket, also as expected. 

“Here.” She hands him the bundle she’s been carrying around as she wandered around in the dark for him. “They’re not the latest Earth fashions, but they’ll help keep you warm.” He already has the only blanket she can spare, but she can give him the biggest pullover sweater she has, and the only pair of baggy exercise pants she owns that might fit him too. She normally sleeps in those but she’ll figure something out. 

“Thanks.” 

That he doesn’t refuse them tells her that he’s been cold, proven true when his fingers brush against hers as he takes the clothes. They’re like ice. 

“Murphy-”

“No,” he cuts her off, his shoulder nudging hers as he turns toward her, “don’t pull a Bellamy and lecture me about things I already know. Talk to me about something else.”

“Alright.” Her goal was to get him back on the right side of the Ring, and it was looking like it would be a longer process than what she had hoped for. It’s not ideal, but she’s not exactly unfamiliar with his brand of stubbornness either. If she’s careful about it, she’ll wear him down. Preferably on the sooner end of the spectrum. 

Fairly sure he hasn’t heard this one before, she tells him about when she was fourteen, and the first time that Sinclair sent her to do repair work alone, in one of the smaller ducts of the Ark because only the teenaged apprentices in Mecha would fit inside. And that’s when she found out that in a small cabin in Factory Station - Section 17 to be specific - a young girl was hiding under the floor. 

* * *

The next morning is the first time she really gives in and meddles. There’s no regret involved, not when she was lying in her bed last night, unable to rest because all she could picture was Murphy huddled up on the unforgiving floor, frigid enough that he accepted her sweater and pants without a word of protest. He’s so fucking pigheaded, refusing to give an inch even when it hurts him, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that Emori is the one to approach if she wants to make faster progress. 

“Hey,” she says, looking up from the pieces of the thermal control system she’s trying to perfect. Emori smiles at her as she takes her own seat. 

“Sleep alright?”

“Frustratingly, no,” Raven answers. “But you could help me with that, actually. I know this isn’t something that’s any of my business, and I’m sorry for sticking my nose in it. But you and Murphy are my friends, and you know I care about both of you.”

Emori doesn’t seem upset so far, only curious, so Raven considers how to word the only solution she’s been able to come up with. Ever since they arrived on the Ring, sleeping arrangements had often been fluid. Partly due to boredom, partly out of necessity. Definitely because of who was having sex. Not that it had been her. Only Harper and Monty had been in the same room with the same roommate they'd had since the start. Raven had roomed with Echo for a long time in the beginning, Murphy had sometimes shared a room with Bellamy when he and Emori argued, and then there was that memorable two week period when everyone had gotten some kind of intestinal bug except her and Murphy, and he’d slept on the floor of her room for a while to avoid what he called the ‘germ-spreaders’. 

“We’ve never had enough rooms to use as bedrooms, but we’ve made do,” she begins to explain. “I know you and Murphy don’t want to be together right now, but with Echo and Bellamy sharing, and of course Monty and Harper, me and you have space to ourselves. But that means Murphy had to find somewhere else. And I don’t like that he’s isolating himself like this.”

Saying she doesn’t like it is putting it mildly. Loathes it is a better term. He’s come so far from the rage-filled young man he was years ago; _they’ve_ come so far from who they used to be. She doesn’t want him to revert to that mindset because he’s pushing them all away. Already it’s been going on too long, but she didn’t know before. 

“Raven,” Emori sighs, “he’s _choosing_ to be like this. I kicked him out, yeah, but that didn’t mean he had to act like a child and throw a fit. Some part of him wants this or he wouldn’t be doing it.”

If anybody asked for her opinion, it was more about Murphy thinking he _deserved_ this rather than actually _wanting_ it, but nobody had asked Raven for her two cents, so she’ll keep that to herself instead of trying to change anyone’s mind. Especially Emori’s. 

“I hear that. And I know you have plenty of reasons to be angry with him. But I want to ask if you’ll consider moving your stuff in with me, so there’ll be a room already empty when he wants to come back.” Raven subtly examines Emori’s face for a clue on how she’ll answer. They’ve been so hateful to each other, Murphy and Emori; she honestly isn’t sure whether Emori will give in or not. 

There’s a long stretch of silence in the room that starts to worry her, and she feels like the chances of getting Murphy off the floor and out of isolation are dwindling by the second. 

“Wait!” Raven exclaims, a note of panic present because what if Emori says no and then she’ll be out of options. “It’s okay if you can’t or don’t want to say yes for Murphy. But can you do this for _me_?”

The faint wince that had shaped Emori’s lips just a moment ago softens, a sad but fond smile taking its place. 

“I can do it for _you_ , yeah,” she agrees. 

If Emori notices that Raven has to blink rapidly to clear the tears out of her eyes, she doesn’t comment on it. Which is just one of the reasons why they’re family.

Her years of being a neutral referee may have just gone down the drain along with having a room to herself, but at least it was for a really good cause. 

* * *

If Raven had to choose whether her biggest problem was getting them down to Earth or convincing Murphy to sleep on a mildly comfortable mattress in a warm room, there was hands down no question. Murphy was the biggest problem. As tough as getting them home still was, it was at least logical and she knew what steps she had to take. Murphy had none of that going for him. 

He’d gotten worse, refusing to join them at any time, including for meals, although she suspected that he filled up a water container when they were all sleeping each night. It felt like he was picking them off one by one too - initially all of them except Emori had gone to try to talk some sense into him, or they’d at least take over some algae to show they weren’t abandoning him. But one of Murphy’s talents has always been finding the weak points, and even Echo had come back one evening with a scowl on her face, adamant that she wouldn’t be going back anytime soon. Only she and Bellamy hadn’t given up yet, and with her schedule, Bellamy ended up doing the lion’s share of dealing with their resident demon, especially during the day. 

She prefers seeing Murphy at night anyway. Then she can pretend that it’s appropriate for it to be this dark in the hallways, in the tiny, confined space she can’t bring herself to call his room. She’s empty-handed tonight since it’s long past dinner, and Bellamy had warned her that Murphy was testy when he brought the algae soup earlier. Seriously, when Murphy _wasn’t_ testy any more, she didn’t know. 

Never certain whether she should knock and give him the option of rejecting her, or barge in and act like she doesn’t respect his privacy, she falls back on jiggling the door handle slowly and loudly, announcing her presence as she opens the door. He’s lying on his back, arm flung up over his head. The beam of brighter light that falls over him shows that he’s wearing her black sweater over a few other layers. 

“Hey. I’d ask if you want company, but you’ll probably say no and I’m too tired to get my feelings hurt. So fake it for me, okay?”

Murphy grunts in a way that she supposes she should interpret as agreement, and since he draws his legs to the side to make room for her to sit down, it’s more of an invitation than she expected from Bellamy’s warning. 

As always, the floor is chilly even through the blanket, making her sigh in exasperation for what’s probably the millionth time when it comes to Murphy. Emori has been crashing with her for almost two months now, yet he shows no signs of taking up residence in the empty bedroom. If she could drag him there and lock him in, she’d do it in a heartbeat. 

“Why are you tired?” Murphy asks, his voice weary. He doesn’t sit up, and despite the unappealing harshness of the floor underneath her, the mental and physical exhaustion she's been struggling with suddenly overwhelms her as she gives in to the urge to lay down next to him. 

“Oh, the usual,” she explains, angling her head so she can rest it on the corner of his pillow, twisting her knees towards him so her hip doesn’t dig so painfully into the floor. “Torturing myself with the hundreds of problems I still have to solve if we’re ever going to make it home.”

Since he’s deserted them, she’s tried hard to stay positive and cut out her own complaints when she visits, but tonight she really has reached her limit. And she’s mad at him for not giving in when she just wants so badly for him to be safe and not alone. 

“I’m sorry I can’t help you, Raven.”

She tilts her head so she can look at him. He’s pale in the faint light, his eyes shiny. There’s no heat in her voice when she speaks, only the hope that he will _hear_ her. “You could help me. Even if it’s not with the thermal systems or the potential fuel solutions, I’d feel so much better if you weren’t in the dark and cold all the time. I don’t understand why you won’t come back with us when there’s an empty room just waiting for you.”

His eyes flicker shut after she finishes, and she’s lying close enough to study him, to see the way he swallows guiltily with what she says, wishing she knew the magic words that would heal the wounds he was trying too damn hard to ignore. 

“You shouldn’t worry about me so much.”

That pisses her off, and she pokes her finger hard at the center of his chest. His eyes fly back open. 

"Hey!"

“Don't 'hey' me! So, what, I’m not allowed to care about you? Is that what you’re saying? That I shouldn’t be worried about my friend?” Her eyes search his, looking for answers that he might never give voice to. 

“I know you asked Emori to room with you for my sake.”

“Yeah, and your point?” She’s annoyed he’s avoiding her questions. 

“Me and her never wanted to put you in the middle of our problems,” he eventually says, after she refuses to break the silence between them. 

“You didn’t, not really. I am in the middle because you’re both my friends, but that’s nobody’s _fault._ I always thought I should try to stay out of whatever arguments you guys were having because it wasn’t my place to get involved.” She lifts the shoulder not pressed against the floor in a half-shrug. “But I can’t stay quiet this time. Do you honestly not know that everybody up here is a family, that I think of you as _my_ family?”

If she wasn’t paying close attention, she might think he wasn’t affected. But she knows him, knows the few tells he does have. His fingers twitch where they’re resting on his thigh, and his teeth clench, tightening his jaw. It’s not like they’re in the habit of talking about how they feel when it comes to positive emotions, each of them far more comfortable with the familiarity of anger and resentment instead of love or trust, but maybe she needed to open up enough for them both. 

“How am I supposed to be okay with leaving you all alone over here? Family doesn’t give up on each other, and I’m not gonna give up on you.”

She didn’t learn that lesson from her mother, knows Murphy didn’t learn it from his either. But Murphy’s dad had set an example, and she had Sinclair to help her. And she knew how important it was that she and Finn had found their way back to being family before it was too late. It might be impossible to pinpoint exactly when she’d started to think of Murphy as family, but that didn’t make it any less true. She _won’t_ give up on him - that was the truth too. He’s become much too important. 

Neither one of them says anything more for a while, letting things sink in and settle, and without power there’s no low hum as background noise. The chilled quiet surrounds them, same as the darkness, but Murphy doesn’t turn away. He regards her carefully, watchful, but it’s not uncomfortable and she’s calm as she lets his gaze roam over her. She can feel herself close to drifting off when he finally speaks, so softly it’s almost a whisper. But she hears him loud and clear. 

“I can’t promise you when I’ll be ready to come back. But I think I can promise that I _will_ come back. If you can wait for me.”

The smile on her face is tired but genuine. “I can wait for you. And so will your room.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Stay sane & healthy!


End file.
